Take Me Out To The Ballgame
by LindaL24
Summary: Prequel. Alan and Margaret have a little disagreement about a young Charlie. One bad word. Sorry.


This story just sort of wrote itself today. The idea came from an episode of "Leave It To Beaver" that was on this morning. It was the episode where Ward had 2 tickets and had to decide who to take, Wally or the Beaver. It just kind of set me to thinking. Gotta admit, I think Don and Charlie are a whole lot cuter than Wally and the Beav.

Enjoy!

"Take Me Out to the Ballgame"

"I can't believe you did this, Alan. Not after the discussion we had the last time about that ridiculous fishing trip." Margaret Eppes just shook her head. "I know you're an intelligent man. How can you keep making the same mistake over and over?"

"…Maggie…" Alan Eppes knew he had to calm his wife down quickly. The boys were expected home from school in approximately 15 minutes and the way Margaret sounded, she was far from done.

"Don't 'Maggie' me, Alan. You have got to realize that Charlie will be crushed when he finds out you're taking Don to the ballgame without him."

"Charlie's only 10. He's too young to really enjoy the game." When Alan looked at Margaret, he knew he'd obviously dug himself in deeper.

"Yes, Alan, he's 10. And Donnie was only 8 when you took him to his first ballgame."

"Donnie loves baseball."

"So does Charlie."

"Charlie loves numbers, Maggie!"

Margaret couldn't remember ever having been more disappointed in her husband of twenty years than she was right that moment. "That's all you see in him, isn't it? You don't even see your adorable little boy. You just see him as some sort of walking calculator. "

"He won't enjoy the game, Maggie. He'll just want to calculate batting stats and attendance averages. It will take away from Donnie's enjoyment of the game. You know how Charlie pesters Don. Don't you think that Don deserves a little something that's 'just his'?"

"Yes, of course. But not when that something comes so blatantly at Charlie's expense."

"Good Lord, Maggie. Like Don doesn't give up things for Charlie?"

"I know that Alan. But never flat-out-slap-in-his-face like this. I know that we spend a lot of extra time on Charlie's schooling, but this is not about you taking Don to a spelling bee and leaving Charlie at home. This is about you taking Don to a baseball game, the kind of thing that I always dreamed of you doing with our boys, and you wanting to leave your youngest at home."

Alan ran his hands down his face. This argument was getting no where fast and the boys would be coming through the door any minute.

"Alan, why do you think Charlie is always trying to get into Donnie's room?"

"Maggie, all younger brothers want to get in their big brother's rooms. It's a fact of life."

"And every time he manages to make it in, what does Don catch him doing?"

"Messing with his stuff, Maggie. What's this got to do with…"

"He catches him going through his baseball card collection, Alan."

"Maggie…"

"Alan, the boys will be home soon. I'd appreciate it if you would sell those two tickets and go buy three seats together." Maggie crossed her arms and looked at Alan in such a way that he realized the argument was over.

"Fine. I'll get three tickets. We'll all go. I'm sure we'll have a wonderful time."

"Alan. I'm not trying to be a bitch about this. I just don't think you see Charlie as a normal little boy. You really need to work on that."

Suddenly the front door burst open and a small hurricane of dark curls whirled into the room. "Dad! Mom! Look what I did today!"

A lanky teen with a slightly surly attitude followed. "Christ, Charlie, give it a break." He looked to his father. "Hey, Pop, did you get those tickets we talked about?"

Maggie looked as if she'd been struck. She whispered under her breath. "You already talked to Don about this?"

Alan gave her an apologetic look.

Margaret's face easily displayed the disappointment she felt in both of her 'men' and she hurried into the kitchen.

Don might have been a self-centered teenager, but he picked up on his mother's emotions immediately.

"What's wrong with Mom?"

Charlie's head whipped around from where he was showing his father his assigned homework. "Mommy's sick???"

"No, squirt, she's not sick." Donnie assured his panicked little brother and headed for the kitchen.

As he pushed the swinging door open, he found his mother staring out the window into the back yard, her back to him. "Mom? Everything OK?"

"No, Donnie, everything is definitely 'not' OK."

Don was suddenly frightened by his mother's words. "Is it something I did?"

"No, Donnie, I guess it's me" she whispered. "I guess it's just me."

Don could hear his mother trying to hold back her tears. "Mom???"

Margaret turned and faced her oldest. "I guess it's just me, Donnie, that sees Charlie as a child that wants nothing more than to be treated like a normal 10 year old."

"Well, Mom, I think we all know that Charlie's far from being a 'normal' 10 year old." Don smiled.

Margaret pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down, suddenly drained by the whole afternoon. "I've just had a very lengthy and heated argument with your father about taking you to the ballgame, without your little brother, accusing him of not seeing Charlie as a little boy and low-and-behold, you're in on it, too."

"Whoa, Mom. Don't go jumping down my throat. Dad talked about getting tickets. I just assumed he meant three." His mother's words suddenly hit him. "You mean he meant just me and him? Without the kid?"

"Well, Donnie, since he purchased two tickets, I'm sure that's exactly what he meant."

"That's just…" Don wasn't sure really what he wanted to say.

"Donnie, I hope you don't think that I don't want you to go to the game, or that you don't deserve it. Because you really do. You work so hard at school and you keep up your grades, even with so much baseball practice. You're an enormous help with your brother. I certainly don't want you to take this the wrong way, honey, but what your father wants to do is just…"

"…wrong." Don finished for her.

"Hmm??" Margaret looked up.

"Don't get me wrong. I'd love to go to the game, Mom. And I'd really love to go to the game, just me and Dad, 'cause I gotta tell you, Charlie can be a real pain at something like that. But how would that make Charlie feel?"

"Don???"

"You guys don't understand Charlie sometimes. You really need to work on that. He acts all brave about a lot of things and acts like stuff doesn't bother him." Don looked towards the living room. "But stuff 'does' bother him. Really bothers him." Don shook his head. "Dad better just get Stan to go with him or something."

Alan suddenly pushed through the swinging door, an excited Charlie perched on his hip. "Donnie!! Donnie!! Guess what???" The small boy was absolutely bursting.

"What buddy?"

"Dad says we're going to a baseball game. A 'real' baseball game. Not one of your's." Charlie suddenly paled, realizing what he'd just said. "I didn't mean that like that, Donnie."

"I know what you mean, buddy. You mean the professionals, right?"

"Right!!!" He smiled adoringly at his understanding older brother. "And Dad says I can sit in the middle. That way I can help you both with the stats and stuff and you can tell me all about how you'd have handled a play and Dad can…" the little boy wasn't even taking a breath.

"That's great, Charlie." Don interrupted, shooting a sly look at his father, letting him know that he knew 'exactly' why Alan was placing Charlie in the middle. Doing so would mean that maybe they'd both be able to enjoy at least a 'bit' of the game. "So, Dad, you were able to get three tickets, right?"

"Yes, son. Three tickets." Alan beamed with pride at his oldest, and then bowed his head to place a kiss on Charlie's forehead. "Besides, we can't leave the little one out, can we? I mean, what normal 10 year old boy doesn't want to go to a baseball game?"

"None that I know, Pop. None that I know." And Don placed his hand on his mother's.

Margaret Eppes smiled.

Normal, indeed.


End file.
